


One Blessing

by NihilisticKisses



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drabble, Heartbreak, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25665346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NihilisticKisses/pseuds/NihilisticKisses
Summary: Things go differently after Geralt and Jaskier’s falling out.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 24





	One Blessing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snoderplot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoderplot/gifts).



Jaskier had always been one to not properly think things through. he supposed he might be described as impulsive in that sense. or perhaps he was just far too emotional. either way, the possible flaws of his personality mattered little to him as he blinked down at the tattered leaves in his palm. they looked unassuming enough, an ironic smile forming at the thought of what such ordinary looking things could do. _what they would do._ the bard laughed bitterly, hand curling around the leaves with a quiet crunch. wouldn’t this make for a lovely song? a ballad of heartbreak and tragedy. ideas for verses filled his head, only to quickly be smothered as he recalled that there would be nobody left to sing them. it would be terribly tacky to sing about himself in such a manner anyways.

the bard sat alone for a while. longer than he intended to. the sun sank in the sky, painting the mountains with a warm orange glow. closing his eyes, Jaskier envisioned the previous day, where he had basked in the same orange glow, but with Geralt by his side. it had felt so much warmer then.

_“we could head to the coast. get away for a while..”_

gods, how could he have been so ignorant? so foolish to think such a thing. no, he chided himself harshly, to _dream_ of such a thing every fucking night since he had met the damned man. his eyes stung, his teeth sinking into his lip as the hole torn in his chest by the Witcher’s yells oozed with a fresh ache.

what was he doing? why couldn’t he just swallow the fucking leaves? it was such an easy task, and yet every time he went to open his mouth to do it, all he could manage to do was utter a name breathlessly.

  
_“Geralt.”_

of course. even as he tried to escape the man, every cell of his being buzzed that name. it was a dull burning drone that made him want to rip his fucking ears off, though he knew even that wouldn’t silence the noise. a strangled sob rang out, torn from his throat by the chill of the oncoming evening. 

what was he waiting for? no, it wasn’t a what, it was a who. he had known the answer since the beginning despite his continuous questioning. he just didn’t want to. he didn’t want any of this.

“HE ISN’T COMING! HE ISN’T COMING TO SAVE YOU!”

the frustrated wail echoed sharply, the bard breaking down into hysterics. he slammed his fist upon the hard surface of the rock he was sitting on. _upon the spot where gerald has sat beside him._ crimson cascaded down his knuckles. Jaskier watched the rivulets paint his skin red, sniffling as he uncurled his fist to make sure he hadn’t destroyed the leaves. they were slightly crumpled, but otherwise unharmed. he stared at them, wondering solemnly if there was any part of him that wished they had been ruined. 

shaking, he lifted his palm to his lips, tossing his head back and relishing the moment he felt the plant on his tongue. the taste was sour. he swallowed thickly. 

what now? the prospect of merely sitting and waiting to die scared him more than he thought it would. leaning over, he fumbled to grab his lute. it felt heavy in his grasp. his only friend in the end, how pitiful. he chuckled, fresh tears spilling onto the instrument.

“when a humble bard,..”

Jaskier strummed softly, breath catching in his throat. his fingers became tangled in the strings. his body seized up. he choked.

“graced a ride along,..-“

blood splattered against his hands in a wet cough. his insides burned. he was terrified. _so fucking terrified._

“with,-..”

the lute fell to the ground with a lackluster clatter.

the only time he had ever been this scared was when he had almost been killed by the djinn. but then, of course, Geralt had saved him. Geralt-,

the bard turned, scrambling to stand. where was Geralt?

“G-Geralt-,”

the desperate plea faded into a sickening gurgle as more blood filled Jaskier’s mouth. the taste was metallic. he felt nauseous. the scent of iron bogged the air.

“G-,”

he tried again, legs giving out beneath him. he hacked until his throat was raw, each gag coating everything with more crimson. too much. it hurt. he didn’t want to die. where was Geralt? he lifted his head from the ground, expecting the Witcher to meet his gaze.

there was nobody. Jaskier dragged himself back to the rock, a trail of red in his wake. the view of the mountains was gorgeous. surely Geralt would come and sit with him, so he could see the view as well. then they could head to the coast, get away for a little while...there were so many more beautiful views to see..

_“if life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”_

**Author's Note:**

> sorry
> 
> also the plant he ate was poisonous I didn’t really explicitly say that but yeah hopefully it was obvious enough


End file.
